


But You Had To Have Him And So You Did

by Stardustmikk



Category: Shefani–Fandom, The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Au–ish, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 07:09:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10552160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stardustmikk/pseuds/Stardustmikk
Summary: Music Gwen heard with Blake was more than music.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! My name is Elli. I am very new to this fandom but I love Gwen Stefani so much. She is truly an incredible human being as well as such a talented individual. Blake and her are so perfect together and perfect for each other that I couldn't resist writing a little story myself. Every fic here is so good, everyone is truly so talented. This is my attempt and take on how I think their relationship could have developed if they were a sort of friends with benefits type of thing. So here you have this! I would love to keep going but only if you guys think I should. English is not my first language but I have a lovely beta. Thank you Miko :)

Gwen is never going to get used to this. The singer isn’t even sure that she should. But this– _this_ –is something otherworldly. Something she has been missing for the majority of her adult life.

She cups Blake’s jaw and draws him down for a kiss as the water turns to steam, washing away sweat and heartbreak all in one.

“How was your day?”

The water drowns out her voice but the words were pressed against Blake’s lips all the same. He felt them, and in response, presses their lips more firmly together.

“Better now.” He mumbles.

She smiles into his soft flesh, breaking away to watch the water trail down his skin, soaking his curls and opening up his pores. She runs her hands over his bare chest, touching the hair that litters just beneath his collarbone. Gwen skims them up and over Blake’s shoulder, pulls him forward to press their bodies closer. With her eyes closed, head resting just under his chin, she feels like she could fall asleep just like this. Her body is heavy and weak, her mind drifting.

Blake is her contrast. She’s starting to become more aware of it the more days they spend together. He’s wide awake, has been ever since she pulled back the shower curtain and joined him without saying a word.

“Did you eat?” He asks, warm breath hovering just above her ear.

Gwen shakes her head. Mumbling words about not being hungry. Blake shuts off the water and grabs a towel, all while holding her in his arms. He wraps her in soft cloth and helps her step out. She sits on the sink and lets Blake tend to her legs and feet, rubbing lotion into hard tendons and stressed muscles.

“Am I stupid to love him, still?”

Blake looks up from where he’s kneeling on the floor, hands pausing in their ministrations before resuming a moment later. “We’re all stupid people who love.”

Gwen tries not to frown, but she can feel the furrow between her brow. “Am I stupid to think he still loves me?”

The nails of Blake’s hand dig into her calf muscle and draw down her leg hard enough to sting. Gwen supposes that is answer enough, but Blake still speaks. “We’re all stupid people, Gwen, who love.” He repeats and stands up.

He’s tall, unbelievably long everywhere. Gwen pushes back the wet curls that have fallen on his forehead, fingers sinking into his hair and rubbing gently at his scalp. Blake closes his eyes in appreciation, and lets her pull him closer.

“Can we talk about Christmas,” Blake murmurs, lips like a kiss at her temple. “I’m going back to Oklahoma.”

Gwen tugs painfully at his hair, the ache serving to hurt her flexed hand more than his scalp. “And I'm staying here.”

Blake looks uncharacteristically disappointed.

“Blake, you knew that. I can't just go to Oklahoma...my kids–”

“I know. I just thought–I wouldn't mind seein you on Christmas, that's all.”

Gwen rubs an apologetic hand up Blake’s back, skin warm and soft under her touch. He’s always so inviting and human, it makes her insides flutter. “Can’t you stay here? Just this once?”

Blake starts shaking his head and Gwen subconsciously wraps her legs around his towel clad waist.

“And go where on Christmas? I can't go to your’s, obviously.”

“Carson would love to have you. Even Adam would be happy to see you.”

“Gwen, I can't. I gotta go back home, spend some time with my family.”

The emphasis on ‘my’ leaves a sour taste in the air.

“Let's not talk about it right now, okay? Let's just enjoy the time we do get together.” Gwen hurries to dissolve the impending argument. They’ve never had one before and the conversation was quickly veering in that direction. She hangs around Blake simply for the fact that they don't fight. She has enough stress and anger to last her a lifetime with the state of her marriage, and the new living arrangement with her kids. Blake is the last person she wants tension with.

He sighs but otherwise lets the conversation drop. “We should get some sleep. It's late,” he says, and before Gwen can protest, he lifts her up from the counter.

“I don't want sleep,” Gwen says, suddenly breathless, clinging tightly with her arms and legs.

Blake carries her so effortlessly, and Gwen can't remember the last time she was picked up.

Blake shakes his head, lowering her to his bed. “No,” he asks, and kisses her. “What do you want then?” He bites at the healing bite mark on her neck that she's been covering with makeup and sucks gently.

Gwen tightens her legs, pulling them closer together. “This. Just like this.”

Blake’s hands are rough on her hips and he bites hard, enough to really hurt. Gwen whimpers and tips her head back further. It’s why she picked him, that first kiss between them that made her feel. Everything hurts, but it hurts _so good_. Blake wants to tear her open more often than not, and for whatever reason, he’s held himself back–fear over her response or perhaps regarding the loss of her own partner that anything rough, or too hard, would scare her away after she just went through the most painful experience of her life. It doesn't matter. None of it matters when she’s beneath him.

“I don’t think you understand what you do to me,” Blake breathes. He sits up, reaching for the bottle of lube on the nightstand. Another thing she never thought she needed. He cares. Even in bed, Blake wants to make her as comfortable as possible.

Gwen grabs his dick and rubs him through the cotton towel. “Blake,” she moans the name, drawn out and needy, because she knows exactly what she does to him. She tugs at the cloth and Blake rises up to pull it completely off. “Please?”

Blake bites down her chest, lapping over her breasts, leaving a series of stinging marks, and Gwen twists underneath him. She can’t breathe properly all of the sudden, in anticipation, in realisation of how much her body has been craving his own. Her body moves entirely without thought, legs falling open, hips tilting up urgently.

Gwen threads her fingers in Blake’s hair and tries to push him where she wants. Blake licks along the crease of her thigh, close enough that Gwen feels the brush of hair against her heat, but Blake doesn’t touch her. Instead, he slides his hands under Gwen’s ass, grabbing a cheek in each hand, and buries his face there all at once.

This is something Gwen doesn’t think she’ll ever grow accustomed to either, Blake licking her open so hungrily. It elicits such a raw reaction from her. The sort of unrestrained, undiluted honesty she’s spent a lifetime repressing, undone by Blake’s soft mouth. He treats her with such reverence, like eating her out is some sort of divine experience. And Gwen wants to be mortified, to hide her face and bite back the helpless cries of pleasure when Blake spears her with his tongue, but Blake’s every touch demands unabashed honesty.

It’s slippery and hot, and she is awash in sensation yet again, rocking her hips against her friend’s face, hands twisting in the sheets, in Blake’s hair, and she doesn’t even realise Blake has slicked his hand with lube until one finger is pushing inside.

There is a burning tingle through her insides that dissipates into pure bliss. Blake stops and withdraws, brushes his lips along the inside of her thigh until her muscles relax completely.

So slowly Blake pushes in again, more lube this time. Blake beckons gently with his finger, and it draws a moan from her, makes her shift restlessly. Blake eases in a second finger alongside the first, followed by that same burn as before. It eases quickly as he rocks his fingers in and out, curving up as he pulls back, teasing the sensitive muscles at her opening each time. Gwen can't help but to rock down against him for more.

Blake pushes deeper, all the way down to his knuckles, driving all thought right out of her head. Blake lips down the slope of her thigh, and Gwen whimpers, shaking her head. Her hair sticks to her face, damp with sweat, and her fists are sore from clenching so tightly. Then Blake finds just the right spot, crooking his fingers and stroking there. Gwen arches off the bed, working her hips in frantic little circles.

“Oh fuck,” she moans. “Blake–” Her words cut off abruptly when Blake pushes down harder, massaging, and Gwen grows wetter.

“You’re so beautiful just like this,” Blake says, and to prove his point, he adds a third finger.

Gwen bites her lip hard enough to draw blood. She’s teetering on the edge of some terrifying precipice, and if Blake doesn't just fuck her soon, she’s going to take matters into her own hands.

“Blake.” She clutches at his arm and tugs. She can't get enough air. Each time she sucks in a breath, a trembly feeling seizes her lungs before they can fill.

Blake covers her body with his own, fingers still rubbing back and forth inside her. The different angle stretches her wider, leaves her feeling simultaneously too full and not full enough. Gwen closes her eyes as Blake kisses her brow, murmurs, “Shhh,” and down her cheek. Gwen strains her neck back, trying to catch his mouth. Blake draws back.

“Look at me,” Blake orders. Gwen blinks blearily down at him, watches with a dry mouth as Blake pours lube over his cock and fists himself, his fingers still working Gwen open. “Keep your eyes on me.”

Gwen makes a sound of protest, and Blake shoves his fingers in roughly. A very satisfying jolt of pleasure shoots up her spine. “Please.” Gwen’s chest clenches in anticipation. They’ve done this only a handful of times but Gwen doesn't think she will ever tire of it.

Blake pulls his fingers free and braces his hand on her thigh, lifting a little and pushing it wider as he positions himself. His cock presses against Gwen’s opening, and it's so much bigger than three fingers, it always is, and there's a moment where her body simply let's go and allows him in. The head finally pops inside and it's like a floodgate has opened again, but instead of breathing oxygen into her body, it takes it all out in one swift move.

Blake traces the place where Gwen’s body stretches to accommodate him, looking down between them, mouth open, tongue between his teeth. Gwen has to close her eyes. Blake’s touch moves over her lips, along her clit and up the creases of her thighs teasingly, with a light stroke of his finger.

Gwen swallows, but it doesn't help. Blake drapes himself over her, one hand cupping her cheek. “Look at me,” he says, and Gwen’s eyes flutter open. “Stay with me.” Gwen nods, and her breathing stops when Blake shifts his hips forward in a steady press. She fixes her gaze on Blake’s almost desperately, his eyes a dark void.

When Blake settles deep inside her, bodies flush where they're joined, it's the satisfaction that comes from finding that thing she's been lacking. Filled up entirely, stretched beyond what she thought was possible, physically and emotionally, until there's no room for any thought other than that of Blake.

She can feel every place they touch, the way each inhale and exhale causes little shifts of their bodies together, sparking a chain reaction of sensation. How she imagines she can feel Blake’s heartbeat throbbing inside her. Racing in time with her own.

Blake’s arms are rigid, shaking, clasped around her, his face taut with restraint, but there's something wild in his eyes. This is not the dewy-eyed, unfettered adoration that is almost difficult to bear at times for lack of never really having it for the past couple of years in her marriage, this is the hurt, aching man she connected with before.

Gwen reaches out, fingers curved around Blake’s throat to press against his pulse, can feel it jumping, as if the blood will burst free. “Blake. You don't have to hide that from me.”

He bends to tuck his face in her throat, slowing. He breathes, hot and damp, mouth open against her skin and when he lifts his head, he catches Gwen in a kiss. Gwen twines an arm around his neck, fingers in his hair. She swallows again, and then again, almost convulsively.

Unthinking, she tightens her muscles, and Blake answers with a rough jerk of his hips–he’s as deep as he can go in this position. Gwen gasps. Her hand in Blake’s hair tightens and she tugs him up for a kiss. She clenches again, delights in the rough sound it tears from Blake’s throat, the twitch of his temple as he holds back some more violent impulse.

She lets out a panting, aching breath as he begins to move, rocking back and in again. The black has eclipsed the blue of Blake’s eyes. His skin is slick under her touch. Gwen’s hand loosens it’s grip, smoothing down Blake’s neck and holding to his shoulder, using the leverage to roll her body in a slow grind against Blake’s groin.

They both curse and Gwen wants to laugh, loudly and happily. The way Blake moves deprives her of any thought once more. There are so many different nerves, each seemingly connected to a different part of her body, so that when Blake moves, the pleasure sings through the entirety of her.

Gwen has to fight the urge to close her eyes; she won’t miss the struggle taking place before her, the man against the bruised and hurt version of it, warring for absolute control. Their affection for her is two diametrically opposing things–to handle her with nothing but utter care and tenderness, to preserve her whole and untouched juxtaposed with the desire to rend her to pieces, body and soul, and devour her entirely, making them quite literally one.

Her fingers dig into his shoulders, along the ridges of his back. Blake’s muscles ripple with each thrust, hips working faster, pulling out further before thrusting back in. Her nails tear at him, slipping on sweat slick skin.

Gwen knows she has made herself vulnerable to Blake in countless ways since nearly the first time they met, and knows him more intimately than anyone other except for his ex-wife.

Her daddy warned her about heartbreak and how in the process of picking back up all your pieces you can't go around picking up another’s. But Blake is different. What they’re doing is _helping_. It's liberating and if Gwen has to do extra clean up to keep having this, then so be it.

There’s a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead, beading over her lip. Gwen arches up to lick it away and then licks into Blake’s mouth. She brings her knees up to frame his hips and the change in position makes the head of Blake’s dick brush against her sensitive insides on each downstroke. She plants her feet and uses the leverage to meet Blake’s thrusts, quickening the pace.

Blake growls low in his throat and Gwen feels it rumbling everywhere they touch. “Gwen,” he says her name into the kiss, voice tight and warning. His hips snap rough and deep one single time before returning the gentle, slow pace. It draws a deep, pleased groan from Gwen, and she bites his tongue in surprise.

“Fuck.” Blake parts from her mouth with an almost anguished sound, and presses their foreheads together, eyes closed tight. “Like this.” He reaches between them, hand slick in lube, and rubs over her clit. “Just like this.” He echoes her words from earlier.

Each rocking thrust drives a moan from her, rubs against that blindingly sensitive spot, her orgasm building fast now, out of her control. She gives herself over to it; it’s different from the usual building of pleasure in her groin, to that point of inevitability. This stimulation is brutal and relentless, little waves rippling through her stomach. Blake holds her gaze, eyes intense, until she can’t bear it any longer. She has to turn her head away, eyes closed as she cries out as she comes. Her whole body tremors with the force of it and Blake keeps moving inside her, every stroke prolonging the sensation.

Wrung out and trembling, her arms go loose around Blake, and fall heavy to the bed. Her feet slip on the sheets, legs falling open. Every thrust sends liquid heat through her nerves. She whimpers when Blake picks up speed, looks up at him through her lashes.

Gwen reaches out with one hand, limbs so heavy it’s become a little bit of a struggle. She grabs at Blake’s hip, feeling the flex of his flank as he drives in, and Gwen moans just at the thought of all that carefully reined in power simmering there. She reaches further, grabs Blake’s ass and pulls him close with the desperation to see him come.

“Blake,” she says. And she must have said his name a certain way because it makes him grit his teeth and slow his thrusts. With a sudden snap of his hips, he’s coming too, pinning Gwen to the pillow with a crushing kiss. He collapses over Gwen at the last pulse.

His whole weight rests between her thighs, over her chest, a comfortable anchor. He always keeps her from floating away.

Gwen clings back, twining a leg between Blake’s, wrapping both arms around him and pulling him closer. His heart beats a wild tattoo against her own. Too soon, he draws away, and the feel of him slipping free from her body is an uncomfortable one. Gwen touches herself there, pressing hard to counter the throbbing heat and emptiness. She stifles an unexpected cry against the pillow and takes a long breath, and then another, until the exhale is steady.

“Did I hurt you?” Blake asks immediately. His brow is furrowed as he pulls her hand back.

She shakes her head. Now, sated and sore, the exhaustion of earlier is back with a vengeance. “You didn’t hurt me,” Gwen says. She closes her eyes and stretches, luxuriating in the tugs in her muscles, the dull pain in her arms and legs, the icy ache in her heart.

Blake gets up and returns with a damp cloth, tender and careful as he cleans between Gwen’s legs. _How come Gavin never did that for her?_

“Come here,” she says, opening her arms in beckoning.

Blake obliges, curling up at her side. His head rests on the pillow right beside her own, arm stretching over her chest to stroke gently at her nipple. Gwen sighs.

“Thank you,” Gwen begins cautiously. Always aware of how every time they have sex, one of them, rarely both, say thank you. It almost cheapens the experience and the memory but it's what they do. Her muscles are loosening with approaching sleep now, the afterglow of satisfying sex. “That was nice...”

“But...?”

Gwen looks over to see Blake looking at her. “You were holding back.”

Blake chuckles, a low, sensual sound that Gwen warms to. “I have a bottle of wine down in the fridge for you.”

Her eyes are stinging and when she closes them, it’s blissful relief. “I’m already about to pass out,” she says, laughing softly when the words catch on a yawn.

Blake kisses her breast, fingers drawing shapes on the skin beneath his hand. It, along with everything else, has a soporific effect. The last thing she recalls before falling asleep is Blake’s voice, accent thick with sleep, “In the mornin’ then.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Love it? Hate it?


End file.
